PET Scan is over with

The PET scan wasn't as bad as I anticipated yesterday. The nuclear tech and the head nurse were very good about telling me how everything would feel and what they were doing when, so I actually managed not to completely lose it.

On the other hand, Steve looked and passed out. They jokingly said that next time, they would get us two gurneys so we could both lie down.

The actual scanning took forever. They scanned from the top of my eyebrows to my mid-thigh, in sections that each took ten minutes. At least after the first twenty, I could kind of look around and talk to Steve, who they let stay in the doorway. I get to swing back by today to drop off my CT scans, which I had forgotten.

This further reminds me. I got my cancer card yesterday. I am now an official, card carrying patient of the Dana Farber. Evidently, I get mad discounts on parking and stuff. Yay.

I have another week of waiting before I'll know anything. Bah.

Work again this afternoon. Steve and I both managed to totally eke out yesterday off, but, as always, there was some sort of catastrophe caused by fucking Stewart. He claimed that the cash drawer was $80 short and, instead of calling John, who closed the night before, or Steve who is the, you know, manager, he called LP and Tracy, who blames John for everything.

Well, Steve just called to let me know he's picking me up earlier than anticipated. I need to shower.